The New Now

April 26, 2020 By

Remember: This pandemic is not the “new normal,” this is just the “new now.” Thirteen-year-old Bode has always been a deeply intuitive child. On Friday, he taught us an important lesson on perspective during our little graveside service for our beloved pet.

Bode was 3 when we adopted Fat Kitty and it was his earliest memory. “I remember when we were driving home with him for the first time that it was Dark outside,” he shared. “But then today when we were driving home with him for the last time after putting him down, it was Light.”

I was struck. During one of the saddest moments of his young life—when that car felt silent and dark—all he saw was light.

A month ago, I listened to a podcast by Boyd Matheson about perspective and this “New Now” we’re all living. It’s so easy to overreact but we don’t necessarily know if something is good or bad in the beginning. We just know it’s hard, discouraging or frustrating.

Boyd shared the story of an incident in high school that altered his course as a collegiate athlete…and the wise community member who shared the powerful Sufti tale. A certain farmer had a series of potentially devastating events to which his friends empathized about the unfairness of each tragedy but the farmer’s response was always the same, “This isn’t so awful, we just don’t know.” The outcome at the end of a series of unfortunate events was a miraculous, life-saving one. (It’s a short but wonderful lesson and worth a listen: https://omny.fm/shows/inside-sources-with-boyd-matheson/this-is-not-the-new-normal-just-the-new-now?fbclid=IwAR2RLG-nrBec1SE5uoS_vKUlOyE8tciCNFIWFF8xE0HvE7_8oFrR9U5-U-E

The Farmer’s Judgment .. A Sufi tale

Once upon a time there was a farmer who had some land a ways outside the village.
He had a son to help him and one good horse. Indeed, it was a magnificent horse.
So magnificent, that when the King passed through the village, he heard about the
horse and asked to see it.

The King was so impressed that he offered the farmer a considerable amount of
gold for the horse. But the farmer would not part with his horse, and the King went away.

The next day, the horse ran away!

The villagers rushed to the farmer and exclaimed, “Oh, how awful. Your horse
is gone and you don’t have the gold! What a bad thing has happened to you!”

The Farmer replied, “Well, I don’t know that it’s a bad thing, but I do know
my horse is gone and that I don’t have the gold.”

A few days later, the Farmer’s horse returned. And, not only did the horse come back,
he brought six wild and beautiful horses with him. Each would be worth a great
sum once they were broken and trained.

When the villagers heard, they rushed out to see the horses and to say to the
Farmer, “Oh, you were right! It was not a bad thing that your horse ran away.
Now he has returned and brought you six more fine horses. It is a good thing!”

“I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not,” the Farmer said. “I just
know that my horse has come back and brought me six more horses.”

The following day the Farmer’s son was trying to break one of the wild horses and
he fell off and broke both his legs. Again the Villagers visited the Farmer and
they exclaimed, “Oh, you were right! It was a bad thing that your horse came
back with six more horses. Now, your son has broken both legs and cannot help you
with your crops. Surely you will suffer great losses. Oh, what a bad thing!”

And the Farmer said, “Well, I don’t know whether it’s a bad thing or not. I only
know that my son was thrown from a horse and that both his legs are broken.”

The next day the King returned to the village. He was leading his soldiers to the
border where the kingdom was engaged in a terrible battle with a neighboring country
The enemy was fierce and most of the young soldiers were marching to their death.

As the King passed through the village he rounded up all the young men to join in
the fighting. Of course, the Farmer’s son, with his broken legs, did not have to go.

After the King and his men left, the Villagers rushed to the Farmer and exclaimed,
“Oh, you were right! It was a good thing that your son fell off the horse and
broke his legs. Now he will certainly not die in this war as will so many other young men.

The Farmer replied, “Well, I don’t know if it’s a good thing, or not. But I
know that my son did not have to go with the King to fight this battle.

And so the story goes….

All these things that are seemingly crumbling around us? We don’t know if this is so awful. I’m trying really hard to resist the urge to host my own pity party, remember that perspective matters and always look for the Light.

Filed Under: Family travel Tagged With:

Quarantine Day 1,254

April 22, 2020 By

OK, I’ve lost track. Maybe it’s week six? Everything is blurring together but thankfully, the weather is finally warming up after a moody spring with snow and rain.  I went on a socially distanced bike ride with a couple of friends yesterday and today, I hope to take the kids hiking. We can still go outside and to the store. Restrictions are being cautiously lifted but I hope they take it slow. They’re talking about reopening gyms and that seems like the worst place to start. I can’t think of anything more germ-infested.

Last week was brutal. Between Fat Kitty’s passing, hanging insulation, Jamie’s health and oh yeah, after I brought up some issues to my boss, her response was to demote me to less than half my hours and for less pay. Three people have quit in the last few months…and we only had four staff members so that should tell you a bit about where we’re at.  Good times. But honestly, working less hours there has been better on my mental health; I didn’t realize how much it was weighing me down. Now, I just need to make up that money somewhere else and I’m turning my attention back to my long-neglected Mile High Mamas. We’re at the mudding stage of our basement so getting my hours slashed has added an extra measure of economic stress because we feel like we’re still supposed to move forward but there’s just a lot of uncertainty.

A bright spot from last week is we were also flooded with love, texts, food, thoughtful visits and on Sunday, I was on my way out the door after telling my humans they were lame because they wouldn’t give me any attention and I was going to bike to the grocery store to return our movie “It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.”

As I opened the garage door, I saw this crazy crew singing and dancing. For me. And I marveled at these women who, in the last couple of weeks, lost a father, had a cancer diagnosis, job insecurity…really, we covered the gambit of Hard Things. And yet, still there they were showing up and dancing. And tomorrow, we will show up and dance for a beautiful birthday girl who needs an uplift and gosh darn it if seeing this strange new world of simplicity, beauty and connection doesn’t bring tears to my eyes.

The kids are doing about as well as can be expected. Hadley’s school work (and boy crush Josh) keeps her busy and Bode is breezing through online schooling and usually finishes his work early which leaves waaaaay too much video game time. (Intervention needed). Our neighbor’s dog Chewy was on the lam a few weeks ago and when the kids returned him, they picked up a dog-walking gig a couple of times a week with Chewy and Zelda. It has been a nice diversion for both of them. They have also been helping me cook dinner most days and our dishwasher died last week, leaving lots of nice family bonding time washing dishes.

As hard as quarantine has been on an extrovert like me, it isn’t great for introverts either because it is making Hadley even more anti-social. Not only is she doing PUZZLES now but we did a drive-by birthday party for our favorite girl Hanna and some of Hadley’s friends were there.

“Hey, Hadley. Go say ‘hi’ to them.”
Hadley: “I’ve forgotten how.”

But she apparently hasn’t forgotten her quick wit. Before riding over to our friends’ house, I grabbed a cowbell and asked, “What else can we bring that’s loud?”
Hadley: “We have you.”

Something fun that is happening is we are hosting an exchange student for the next school year. Of course, so much is still up in the world with COVID-19 but for now, everything is moving forward. We were contacted about hosting back in December. The liaison from the agency had posted a message on my Swiss mission reunion page that they were looking to place a young man last year….and I helped her put the word out locally. But this time when the agency reached out to me in December about a new placement–Maelle from French-speaking Switzerland–something stirred. We were planning to finish our basement (an issue before because we simply didn’t have room) and I was almost immediately struck by her profile.  It just felt right. I had never envisioned us as the kind of people who would host an exchange student but here’s the thing: you’re not really any type of person until you just do it.

We had an at-home interview with the agency on December 30, submitted a lot of materials and we finally heard back yesterday that everything was moving forward with Maelle. We’re supposed to hear from her in the next few days so that’s exciting! And strange. And makes me a bit nervous because we are at a wonderful place in our family dynamic right now–everyone is doing well (despite the challenges of quarantine) and our family bond has grown stronger this past month. How will adding someone else to the mix impact that? Regardless, Jamie and I both feel like she is supposed to come to our family so, good or bad, this is supposed to happen. We’re just hoping it’s all good. Maelle will be a junior like Hadley, is from Geneva (where I served my mission) and loves skiing, ballet, badminton and academics. Hadley will be the most impacted by all of this so we’re hoping it’s a positive, learning experience for her as she adapts to a sister for the first time. Bode is so easy-going and kind but has an inability to talk to girls–especially pretty ones–so this will be an interesting case study in our home.  Will Bode ever talk to Maelle? Time shall tell.

And, that’s about it. I miss Fat Kitty all day long. Being quarantined doesn’t help because he was my snuggle buddy. We’d eventually like to get a dog but the timing just isn’t right so we’re just prodding long trying to make the best of these final weeks of school before summer “break” hits. Whatever the heck that looks like! I’m personally REALLY tired of breaks…

 

Filed Under: Family, Hadley

In Memory of Remy “Fat Kitty” Tiger Johnson

April 17, 2020 By

We said good-bye to Fat Kitty today.  Since his colon cancer diagnosis on Monday, we were prayerful about when to put him down. We selfishly wanted more time with him but we didn’t want him to be in pain so as we saw his rapid decline, we knew Friday would be the day.

The doctor prescribed Prednisone to shrink the tumor and anti-diarrheal and anti-nausea meds but trying to get him to take them was moderately traumatic for him and us (he hid under Bode’s bed and was afraid of us). We made the difficult decision to not continue his meds so he could live his final few days in peace. And that they were. His little body was slowly shutting down. His once robust appetite was replaced by barely eating a few morsels a day, he strained to go to the bathroom and he withered away before our eyes, considerably lighter when we picked him up. I always proclaimed he was just big-boned and that he was…when most of his fat gone, Jamie estimated he was still 1 foot across when laying down.

Fat Kitty has prepared us for his departure all week, slowly pulling away and occasionally seeking privacy and refuge under Bode’s bed, something he hasn’t done in the 10 years since we brought him home. Jamie told us it was like an elephant graveyard…our sweet boy just knew the end was near. Jamie and Bode built him a little coffin made of wood and Hadley drew flowers and a sweet message. My wonderful friend Sarah came over on Tuesday to do a family photoshoot with him. He hated every minute but I’ll treasure those pictures forever. 

Last night was hard knowing it was his final night on earth. He fell asleep by my side but I awoke at 1 a.m., stressed about him and work. I looked around and he had disappeared. I surmised he had retreated under Bode’s bed again and I worked for a couple more hours. As I started to return to try to sleep again, I heard something in the laundry room: he was trying to go to the bathroom in his litter box. We met out in the living room and connected in a beautiful, tender way. As I looked into those magnificent green eyes, he told me he was ready. It was time. I brought my beautiful boy back to bed with me, in tears, and savoring every last minute with him. I only got two hours of sleep that night but it was a sweet night I’ll never forget.

He has been struggling all week but today, he was a bit more energetic. The weather was finally warm and sunny enough to go outside. He and Hadley explored his beloved fields and our neighbor’s yard. He sat on the porch cushion for an hour basking in the sunshine. When he came back inside, he retreated to Bode’s dark room for some privacy but Bode, Hadley and I surrounded him with snuggles on the bed. Poor cat was probably like, “Just leave me alone!” But we wouldn’t. That afternoon, I dimmed the lights to my bedroom, played some calming music as Hadley and I massaged and snuggled him for his final few hours on earth.  We said a tearful family prayer with him one last time.

(Final touch and a smile)

Due to COVID-19, the vet clinic no longer does home visits so we had no choice but to take him back to the clinic. We waited on the back lawn as he anxiously sniffed the air and watched the birds. Every night before bed, Bode falls asleep to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s “God Be With You ‘Til We Meet Again,” and gosh darn if that kid didn’t play the song and make us cry all over again.

The vet tech came out to us, took Fat Kitty inside the hospital to shave his paw and insert an intravenous cannula. She returned with the veterinarian who was so gentle, sensitive and kind with him and us. We placed him in the middle of us, touching his back as the injection traveled through the tube and a matter of seconds, he slowly bowed his head and fell asleep. It was fast. It was heartbreaking. It was peaceful. 

Jamie placed him in his little casket and wrapped him with Aunt Lisa’s beloved blankie. I held him the drive home, just as I did the first time we brought him to our house 10 1/2 years ago.

We gathered around the little grave the kids and I dug this week. I asked if anyone had anything to say. Filled with emotion, Bode spoke up. He was 3 when we brought Fat Kitty home and he doesn’t remember life without him.

“I still remember when we brought him home to our house in Arvada, it was dark outside,” he reminisced as he looked up at the bluebird sky. “But today as we drove him back home for the last time, we were going toward the light.”

I read a eulogy I wrote (below) about our sweet boy, Jamie did a beautiful dedicatory prayer of the grave and we said good-bye to our boy forever. How blessed we were to have such a sweet, loyal and kind pet in our lives.

==========

 Jamie’s Facebook post:

To our dear pet of more than 10 years, Fat Kitty. To say our relationship was complicated, would be an understatement. I would explain my dissatisfaction at times for your early wake-up calls and you would show your dissatisfaction with a poop surprise.

Although our relationship was mutually love/hate, I loved you because you loved my family. There is no cat that has ever been more adored by two children and a wife. You brought them constant joy and for that I love you.

I will miss you hunting voles in the backyard. I will miss seeing you curled up with Amber on the bed. I will miss your strange but wonderful conversations with Hadley. I will miss the strange way you would lean yourself up against the wall so you could lick your Buddha belly. And I will miss your absolute zest and passion for food.

Sleep well, Sweet Kitty.

==========

My eulogy:

Remy “Fat Kitty” Tiger Johnson (October 2006ish – April 17, 2020) 

Our beloved pet, son, brother, mentor and best friend passed away from Colon Cancer on April 17, 2020. Fat Kitty lived a full life (or rather, spent much of his life full) in the company of his dad Jamie, mom Amber, sister Hadley and fraternal twin brother Bode.

Fat Kitty was rescued when he was about three years old and went on to spend 10 ½  wonderful years with the Johnsons. His talents included catching mice and then sitting on them for fun, doing backflips off window sills after slamming into the blinds, getting attacked by mama magpies for attempting to stalk her babies, eating copious amounts of TUNA, finding the softest place to sleep and using poop as a weapon when he was mad.

Fat Kitty always had to be near his humans, snuggling, purring and loving them hard. He was loyal and protective and would see his children off to school every morning and greet them when they arrived home. His “meow of death” made an appearance during his three memorable baths–two baths were the result of a muddy life on the lam, the other after his brother finger-painted him with chocolate pudding. Fat Kitty would quizzically look at his humans anytime they tried to (what’s that word again?) do a thing called playwith him…but they would occasionally see bouts of whimsy when his beloved Mr. Fluffles made an appearance.

(Mr. Fluffles)

Fat Kitty is preceded in death by Amber’s mom “Grandma B” who passed away almost exactly one year ago. The night before her passing in a midnight interchange with her son, she quietly told him, “I’m ready to go home.” At 3 a.m., just 12 hours before Fat Kitty’s untimely death, he and Amber had a similar encounter as he gently told her it was time.  He passed away peacefully the next day on the lawn of the Wasatch Animal Clinic surrounded by his loving family and the veterinarian who poked and prodded him his final weeks….but who provided the ultimate healing in the end.

Fat Kitty was buried in his backyard near the gate he used to sneak out of, overlooking the fields where he spent some of the happiest days of his life catching his “mouse friends.” He was laid to rest in the (kind of) little wood coffin his dad and brother built that was painted with roses by his sister. He is forever wrapped in the loving embrace of his favorite blankie and sealed with love.

May we all live our fullest lives like Fat Kitty by eating a lot, slumbering in splendor, crapping on the stuff you hate and, most importantly, always staying physically connected to the ones you love.

Filed Under: Family, Favorite Posts Tagged With:

Our Sweet Boy

April 13, 2020 By

Fat Kitty has colon cancer.

His health has been failing him this week and I thank God a thousand times our spring break plans to Sea Island were canceled due to COVID-19 because he would have been all alone.

There have been signs the past couple of months that something was wrong but we didn’t pick up on them. He was throwing up a lot more…which we just attributed to binging and purging grass (which he tends to do). And then there is the trauma of the basement being finished. We’ve had a lot of loud noises pounding away, we completely filled our storage room with furniture which is where his kitty litter and food are located and he has refused to go down there. We thought he was just being anxious and his stubborn self. And of course, there’s the pooping. Since he wasn’t using his kitty litter box, he has been having accidents everywhere.

But it was when his vomiting came to the point where he couldn’t keep any of his food down last week, we took him to Wasatch Animal Clinic. Due to the Coronavirus, we weren’t able to take him inside so it was drive-thru service where we dropped him off and someone did the check-up while we waited in the car. They took his blood and treated him for deworming.  His levels from the blood test came back normal except for high white blood cells which generally means an infection. The vet thought he might have a UTI so we took him back on Friday. He should have gotten better but he was worse all weekend. Lethargic. Vomiting. Diarrhea. Even with the Easter commotion yesterday, he made a brief appearance before weakly going back to my bed, the place where he loves the most–curled up at my feet or by my side every night on the softest blanket. 

We took him back to the vet again today (Monday). It had been a week since this all started and they did an ultrasound this time and found a tumor. Colon cancer.  The four of us were crying as we listened to the vet tell us our options. 1) Chemotherapy. Expensive and painful treatments. And with an old kitty, it really wouldn’t add that much time to his life. 2) Prednisone. The same drug that gave Jamie life during his cancer treatments. It can’t cure Fat Kitty but it could possibly shrink the tumor and give us a few more weeks to say good-bye. 3) The vet could put him down at his office right there. WHAT?!

Jamie suggested we say a prayer to figure out our course of action and we ultimately decided to treat him with prednisone. He’s in a lot of pain right now so we’ll see if we can stabilize him and if not, we’ll say good-bye sooner than later. We don’t really have any pictures with him so our friend Sarah is going to come and take some for us.

As Hadley and I were sobbing on the drive home from our appointment today, I suggested we sing a song to make us feel better from my favorite movie “The Sound of Music.” Except when we got to the second line of “My Favorite Things” and it said, “Raindrops on roses, WHISKERS ON KITTENS,” we decided that maybe singing isn’t such a good idea right now.

So, we’re just going to enjoy these final hours or days we have with our beloved pet of more than a decade, unapologetically feeling the pain of this loss while honoring the world’s collective trauma of grief, panic over livelihoods, panic over loss of lives of loved ones, the anxiety of uncertainty and missed milestones, no matter how big or small because right now, it all feels big.

Filed Under: Family Tagged With: